Mine & Yours
by daisherz365
Summary: When Sherlock Holmes comes back the last thing he expects to see is Molly Hooper with a three year old little boy. Least of all to find out Irene Adler is the mother and he's a father. What fascinates him the most is the way that Molly Hooper seems to be in control of everything, emotions included. Sherlolly
1. Chapter 1

**MINE & YOURS**

**1/3.**

_His lanky form comes to a halt as he almost tumbles over a small toy car as he maneuvers around the quietly still foyer of Molly Hooper's flat. It has been three years and he still isn't sure why he decided to come here first. She had been the last to see him, he knows. It still hadn't mean she had to be the first. _

_There had been something nagging at the back of his mind when the driver asked him, "Where would you like to go?" The address tumbled from his lips before his mind could catch up to what he was saying. He almost changed his mind. Now, he wished he had. _

_What he's thinking now isn't something he can recall ever feeling. He doesn't have to think much as the tired looking petite form of the pathologist comes walking in with a frying pan in hand. He quirks his eye brow at that. Her kitchen is off to the far right but she's come from the hallway._

_Where did she get that from? Why was it in her bedroom of all places? _

_She lowers the weapon and blinks at him as she wraps the shawl that is around her closer trying to hide the fact that she is a completely bare underneath her night gown. He hides a smirk at that as he bends down to retrieve the near cause of his fall. He raises it up so that she can see it as she makes her way towards him slowly. _

"_He's not mine." That's the first thing that leaves her mouth which she begins to gnaw at it. She reaches out to take the blue truck and his hand wraps around her smaller one. _

"_I don't care." He tells her. It's not the truth but he wants to see her reaction. _

_Molly yanks her hand away from his and turns, she walks about the room picking up some items that were spread across the floor. More toys and a blanket and piece of clothing fit for a little boy. "You should." She tells him quietly once she tosses the tows into a little plastic bin on a table in the corner near the bookshelf which he knows holds most of her medical journals and a few leisure readings. _

"_What gives you that idea, Doctor Hooper?"_

_**Doctor**__, she smiles a little but the weariness of another secret she's been keeping for another bites back into her as she turns and looks at him. "He's yours." She pauses briefly and looks towards the hallway as a set of little legs comes towards the entryway, Molly continues as she scoops the little boy in her arms. "Miss Adler sends her love."_

That's how Sherlock Holmes finds himself sitting on the small couch with Molly Hooper sitting close by but not too close. She's watching him he knows that already. The heat from her eyes watching him cautiously as he had the opposite reaction to what was expected of him when it came to handling startling matters. He rarely ever showed any kind of emotion besides the ones he deemed fine for a man of his stature.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Molly asked him after a few minutes of silence. She had just sat there once she had guided him to the couch when he falter after she told him what she had been told a little over two years ago.

"Where's the boy?" He noticed she wasn't carrying the small boy with the little teddy bear he had been dragging along with him.

"He got him back to sleep. He's in his room." She told him.

"How do you know he's mine?" He turned to her slowly and peered down at her. Her hand had reached out to touch his arm, she drew back and folded her hands in her lap.

"She came to me after the first year that you were away. I don't really ask many questions after she told me that she thought I'd be the one that she could trust more than anyone. I seem to have that effect on people. Being able to get people to trust me with secrets that they don't want to get out to people." She paused and let out a breath before standing up and crossing the room to a small box that was sitting just above the second tier of the bookshelf and picked it up.

Sherlock watched Molly as she opened it and begun to fiddle with whatever was in there. He stayed there waiting for her to continue. "She didn't beg though I suppose I'd probably have some satisfaction in that. It's not every day that someone you thought were dead – actually dead comes carrying a babe that apparently belonged to a man who you had killed barely a year prior to that. I don't ask questions. I don't need to know all the details. When a child is involved it's better not to ask." Molly shrugged as she shut the box and passed an envelope over to him.

He took it but didn't open it. "It's for you. She told me to give it you when you came back. I didn't read it. I figured it was between the two of you."

"Thank you." Molly looked at him after he uttered that. She looked him over and gave him a smile. She asked because she needed to be sure that he wouldn't just go off running off when he had a responsibility now. "Are you back, then?"

Sherlock placed the envelope in his jacket as he stood and walked over to where Molly was standing, towering over her in the process. It didn't seem to Molly that he was trying to be menacing the slightest. He was just really tall. That's what it was.

"If I say no?" He asked her as his flickered across her face trying to figure out what was going through her mind. She had just told him that she had been taking care of a child that she hadn't given birth to and seemed to think was his. He wouldn't know for sure until he saw the boy really. He had seen him for a nanosecond. It was dark in here and as quickly as Molly had picked him up and couldn't see much.

"I might have to tie you down to a chair."

"Are you sure you're capable of that?"

"You and I both now that I'm capable of much more that that. Don't test me, Sherlock." Molly sighed.

She looked tired.

"Go." He inclined his head towards the side gesturing for her to go ahead towards her room. "You look tired. I'll be here sitting when you get up."

Molly looked at him as she relaxed a bit and nodded. "Okay, if you're not I'll do something rash. You might not forgive me for that."

"I thought I was the one who's supposed to be asking for forgiveness?"

"You should already know that I'll always accept you for who you are. I may be upset for a while but that's what you do to everyone. I'll see you a little while." She mumbled as she walked around him and begun walking towards the hall where her room was located. "Welcome back." She told him as she turned the corner and headed back to her bedroom.

Sherlock sat there with his hands over his eyes, eyes closed. He wasn't tired, his mind was whirling with all of the things that had transpired and the things that had not. He had expected a lot of things out of Molly Hooper. Taking such a burden alone was something he should have seen but had not thought of even once.

He jumped up as if he remembered something and reached into his jacket's pocket for the small envelope. It was thin, there wasn't anything too big in it. A slip of paper if anything. He inspected the envelope for a brief second before tearing it open with his hands, glancing at what was written there. A few lines and then went to the kitchen, turned on one of burners and set a flame to the paper.

He didn't need it. He didn't want it.

A deep frown set on his face as he turned the burner off and watched the pieces of disintegrated ash burn until it was nothing but mere black – nothing. It was nothing ultimately.

He knew what it said. It was now ingrained in his mind but he wasn't sure if he could trust it. He had never been able to trust The Woman. He most certainly wouldn't start now.

He took his place back on the couch and looked about the room. It had changed since the last time he was there. There was more space and a bit more of an organization to it. It had been rather messy before. The bins to the side had done a bit good in that retrospect. She never really had much to begin with but it was nice to see that this new venture had done something for her.

She had looked tired but she didn't look that upset. She didn't seem much of anything. She seemed to just be rolling with what had been given to her. He would have to see what else had changed in the morning.

Hours went by in an agonizing fashion. The only thing that Sherlock could think of was the little boy with the teddy bear and the young woman who had done more than enough for him over the years. He didn't know if he wanted her to have to add all of this to her load. Not that she had much going for her. From what he noticed she was still as single as could be. Having a child around couldn't have helped her that much.

He had told her that she shouldn't try to date anyone. He hadn't been trying to be unkind. He had been observing her choices and while a few of them hadn't be too bad there were more on the list that had been morons, the worst of all being Jim Moriarty. He thought it was plausible for him to at least look out of her. She had seemed to be looking out for him that day in the lab.

He would have to pay her back some day. Today was not that day.

This was something much more than a debt. It was almost a life sentence if he thought about it. A child. He had never thought much of having family for himself.

It wasn't hard for him to think of how Molly had dealt with that on her own. Had she dealt with it on her own? Did anyone else know? God, he hoped not.

He peered over as he heard the small footsteps from before come around the sofa and huff as he tried to do something. The little body with the mop of curls tried to climb up onto the sofa next to him with a bit of a struggle. The stuff animal might have something to do with that. Sherlock watched him for a moment before realizing that he should probably just help him. The boy hadn't realized that he should put the animal down before climbing up on his own. The stuff animal was just hindering from doing what he so desperately wanted to.

Sherlock reached down and plucked the bear from his tiny hands, causing the little boy to look up him. It made the detective able to see the set of blue eyes staring back at his own. They were almost a mirror image back if not a little darker. "Hullo." He said in a bit of a quiet voice. The boy looked up at him as if trying to think of something. He looked around half way and spotted something and went over to it.

A picture, Sherlock noted.

He watched as the boy made his way back over to him and pointed to the photo. Sherlock wanted to groan at Molly for the photo that she had framed. It was the deerstalker one with him and John. "Lock." The boy repeated, Sherlock hadn't heard him the first time. He was trying to call his name. That was what he called him, "Lock."

Sherlock merely nodded. "Yes and what's your name?"

Before the boy could answer, he heard Molly answer for him. "Ezra. His name is Ezra Hooper. He's going to start school soon and he needed a last name. Irene hadn't told me otherwise. She just called him Ezra." She was slipping on one of her shoes as she made her way over to them.

"Are you hungry, sweetie?" She asked Ezra as he latched onto her leg. Molly just patted at his head and smiled. He nodded and rushed off to the table that was near the kitchen.

"Are you hungry, too?" She looked up at Sherlock when you notice he had been staring at her.

He shook his head. "I'd like coffee," he held back the full order as she had turned to go to the kitchen. "If you have any."

"Of course." She called all over her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen. Sherlock stood up to his full height and ventured over to the table where Ezra was sitting with a sippy cup in his hands as sat on a little cushion that helped him see over the table. He was still rather short.

Sherlock was just observing all of this. There was a routine, he rather not mess it up. He felt a bit out of his element here, suddenly.

"You can sit. There's plenty of room." Molly told him when she turned for a second to check on Ezra. Sherlock sat hesitantly and watched Ezra who was coloring in a little book. Sherlock peered over and saw it was just one of those books that he often saw children coloring in. The page he was furiously coloring in red was a train. He liked motor vehicles then, he concluded.

Molly placed a cup in front of him soon enough and Sherlock was grateful to have something to do with his hands. He had begun to grow a bit fidgety. She returned to the kitchen for a few minutes. Untensils clattering together as she moved around. It wasn't really all that loud but as Sherlock had never had to be around people much lately this sounded about as loud as gunfire.

He let out a sigh when Molly came back with two bowls. One with cereal for Ezra and the other with fruit. She kept the fruit one to herself as she shifted from side to side and plopped the small cut up pieces in her mouth. "What are you going to do?" She asked after a few moments a silence. No noise besides her and Ezra eating.

"What are you referring to?"

"Whichever you feel like sharing. I have to take Ezra to Dr. Sullivan's office for a few hours. You're free to come along or you can go do the other thing."

"Do I have much of a choice?"

Molly placed the bowl down. Sherlock peered over into to see that there was little left. He did reach over and take a small cube of mango and plopped in his mouth as she began to talk. "Sherlock, I can't help you with everything. I don't know if that will help much. My responsibility is to Ezra and to the morgue."

"No, it's not." He argued firmly as he stared at her, stilling her.

"What?"

"You don't have to do this. You never had to do this."

"What did you expect me to do? Let him just rot somewhere in an orphanage? Or worse let Mycroft take him? Not that I think Mycroft is a bad person. He would take care of him, of course but I doubt that he would have liked it very much. We have a bit of a life here. I like it."

"I'm saying that you don't know what will happen tomorrow or the next day."

"I try not to dwell on things that much anymore."

"When there are power players looking out to hurt people closest to you, you do." He told her.

"Is that what this is about? Irene Adler. I told you that I don't need to know."

"What does he know?"

"He knows you. He knows you're Sherlock Holmes and he knows I'm Molly. I take care of him. That's all. He doesn't ask about anything else. I have told him about you. The good parts." She tells him as she grabs his cup which he has emptied, and stacks it in the bowl that had the fruit in it and takes the cereal bowl that has only milk left and walks towards the kitchen. "He's still working on his vocabulary though so he doesn't really know how to ask some things but that's fine. I do work with him, we read most nights a story. He seems to like detective stories." A smile slips onto her face as she grabs Ezra by the hand and heads back into the hall to get Ezra ready for their appointment.

When she comes back out with Ezra in tow. A bag over her shoulder, and looks around to make sure she has everything that she needs Sherlock is there waiting at the door. Sherlock turns to her before she can open her mouth to say anything else. "I'll meet you at Angelo's at six thirty. That'll be more than enough time for everything, right?"

"Sure." Molly gave him a reassuring smile before he opens the door and holds it for the two of them to shuffle out before she closes the door and locks it. She stops the thought from crossing her mind before it finishes. She wants to ignore it but it comes back quickly.

_They almost look like a family, an actual family. Almost._

They walk down the steps and head out in two separate directions. They'll meet up again later. That's the promise that'll keep her moving for the rest of the day. She has to keep moving for both of their sakes. Ezra more importantly.

**Welcome to my little three – parter. I think this little idea blossomed from watching A Scandal In Belgravia for about the hundredth time. I honestly don't know how you guys are going to feel about it but think of it this way there are only two other parts you may have to tussle through. Two more parts, I as the writer have to get through. I do hope you enjoy it a little bit. I did hide two references in this first chapter. If you can spot them I'll shout you out whenever I post part two! Have a wonderful day.**

**much love,**

**day **


	2. Chapter 2

**MINE & YOURS**

**2/3.**

Sherlock face was set into a pout upon sitting across from Molly Hooper who had been there for a little while, he noticed. There was a glasses already set on the table. One with undrunk red wine and the other two of water. Molly was alone, he noticed. He found himself analyze her a bit more as she stopped giggling at him. "I think you should have guessed, John would react that way." She told him as she took the small wet package of frozen peas and reapplied it to his cheek. He had forgotten to put it back on there. He gotten lost in his mind palace on the way here.

It was bruised, as was mouth where the blond woman had smacked him out of fury that he would do that to someone he claimed to be as his friend. Her ring had cut him pretty good. It had been a bit unexpected but he took it all with as much as grace as he could. He hadn't stayed long enough after it looked like both John and Mary as he had been informed her name was had more than enough of badgering him about questions. He had answered most of them, dodged a few that he would need to think about.

"Yes. I didn't factor in the woman. She's interesting."

Molly laughed as Sherlock took the package away from her hands and pressed it a bit more firmly. Molly having to stretch a bit across the table. He didn't mind her attention, the leers of the men settled near them was something that annoyed him, though. "Mary is Mary. They have been through a lot together. I think she is good for him though, he was a bit worse for wear for a long time. We all begun to worry about him. I did try to be there for him. Mary is a bit better at that. She is the one marrying him, after all."

Sherlock nodded as the boasting Angelo came over to the table and greeted him with much glee at his first encounter back with him since the Fall. He commented about how he never though Sherlock was a fraud, it just wasn't true and then followed through in his normal nature at noticing that he was without John instead in the company of a pretty woman – Molly. Molly hid her amusement behind her hand as Angelo brought over a candle and asked for their order. It was on the house, he said.

Molly wasn't all the hungry and Sherlock had decided on eating. It would help settle his anxious energy that filled him ever since he left her flat that morning. "Where's Ezra?" He asked her shortly after they were left alone.

"He always very tired after we leave the doctor's office so I took him over to one of his friend's house. They all seem to have the same need to sleep after spending so much time with doctors who aren't actually taking care of them. He's sleeping, more than likely." She told him as she broke a piece of the bread that was on the table and began nibbling on it.

"You were there for at least three hours." He deduced as he watched her. She brushed the excess of bread crumbs off her hands. "It's nice to know you can still read what you need to know. A half an hour in the waiting room and the two and half with the doctors and specialist." Molly watched as Sherlock's expression changed from slight interest to a blank canvas. She wanted to know what had changed in the last couple seconds. She imagined it had to be the mention of specialists. She knew little about Sherlock's own childhood but it wasn't hard to piece together the idea that he had been through the ringer for his intellectual abilities as well as the fact that it was difficult for him to stay focused on things that weren't stimulating. Molly had deflected those reasoning from surfacing when it came to Ezra and the doctor visits but it had snuck up a few times over the past couple years. When doctors are involved they ask questions and many of those answers she couldn't give.

It was a bit of a hassle but she had managed nicely. Ezra was nearly the exact opposite of Sherlock Holmes. While he was smart, he also struggled with things that most children excelled at. His motor skills were a bit troubling as well. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with him, he just was a bit underdeveloped with a few things. That was why he went twice (sometimes three) times a month to see Doctor Kline.

"Can I ask you a question?" Molly asked after taking a sip of her water. When Sherlock hadn't said anything she decided to go on and just ask. It wouldn't hurt too much. "I need you to understand that whatever happened to you when you were younger doesn't mean that Ezra is the same way. He's not. I'm not going to pretend to even know half of the things that went on. Something happened but regardless, he's fine. When I said I work with him, I meant it. He isn't going to fall or break. Do you understand?"

Sherlock didn't take his off of Molly the entire time that she was explaining to him. He did understand what she meant. If he had had someone like Molly Hooper when he was boy, he had the sneaking suspicion that he would have probably done better. She cared enough to not let that happen. That was why it puzzled him all day why she would do this for him. He meant what he told her before. She was taking on too much just because she could and she gave a damn about a little boy.

"Yes, I understand." He told her quietly before their food was brought to them. They ate quietly for a little while. Molly tried not to make it too obvious that she did enjoy this. There was still that part of her that was shouting with glee that she was having dinner with Sherlock Holmes and he had been the one who to suggest it. She was happy to have this for a little while. She knew it was bound to change soon enough.

Sherlock was the first one to break the silence upon finishing his bowl of pasta. "If I were to want to spend time with Ezra, what would you suppose I'd do for starters?"

Molly wiped her mouth with the napkin that she had placed in her lap earlier on and gave him a smile. "That's easy. C'mon." She told him as she stood up and donned her coat, grabbing her bag all in the same movement. Sherlock moved with a bit of a jerky movement as he moved after his friend who seemed to have an excited glimmer in her eyes. He wasn't sure if it was the question or the answer that he was about to find but he had great fondness to see that kind of reaction from Molly Hooper. It nearly mirrored the look John said he had when he was excited about a murder.

Well, Molly had a bit more of a mind to be excited about something a bit more joyous but he felt that it came from a similar place.

He dropped a couple of bills behind them despite the claim that it had been on the house. It was a generous tip.

x

_If I told her the truth, what will you do?_

_If what I told her was a lie, what do you think would happen?_

_What is the truth, Mr. Holmes?_

_Put that gorgeous brain of yours to work and enjoy this._

_Deduce. I'll be seeing you, how about we have dinner too?_

_xx Irene Adler_

He had blocked out any and all thoughts of whatever was happening or was supposed to happen with Irene Adler. He had a new focus. One that was both a challenge and very rewarding. Ezra Hooper was extraordinary and he was thrilled to be faced with this new life with him and Molly, of course. The time after Angelo's had been spent at child's art gallery. It took him back to a time when things were simple and thinking about anything wasn't necessary.

Molly and himself had stood back and watched children and some parents who were volunteers at this place make crafts. Some envied the work of Michelangelo and Van Gogh, some was simply child's play. It all had a place, no child was turned away and no art was binned. It was supposed to be a peaceful outlet for parents and children to work together and create something beautiful. Sherlock was a man who admired art but never did anything to aspire to it beyond his instrument. This took effort for him, but two days after being shown this new place Sherlock Holmes, Ezra and Molly found themselves placing a piece of work on the wall in one of the man halls.

It had been the first time that Sherlock tried anything of the sort in the way of communicating with children since the kidnapping of those two children at that boarding school during Moriarty's reign of terror. He had been a bit hesitant but as Ezra talked to him – persuading him in his own way to "PAINT! ART! PAINT!" he had found himself doing something new but pleasing to him. He was becoming involved with his son.

It had taken him about a full day to come to grips with the idea that that's who he was. The note from The Woman had been forgotten for a time during those two and half hours and then days after that too.

Molly Hooper had watched Sherlock Holmes begin to immerse himself in Ezra presence. It was a night after a particularly grueling day at work that Molly went to pick up Ezra from John and Mary's who had offered to spend time with him while she worked and they were both off for the day, fortunately enough. Her sitter having to cancel had put her in a state of panic for a while. Sherlock had been with Lestrade and not that she was sure he would or could handle that, she didn't think to ask.

She went over to her friend's home only to find Ezra not there. John said, Sherlock wanted to take him for a bit. He hadn't said where though both he and Mary had badgered him enough on the subject. He only said they would be out in the public and that he wouldn't take his eyes off him and that was fully capable of doing that on his own. He didn't need to be sat either. He was a grown man. Molly had to laugh at that but behind all of that there was doubt and worry. Molly had never seen Ezra just with Sherlock alone. There was always someone else around.

Molly left the Watsons, sending a mass of texts and trying to call Sherlock on his cell. She got no replies and the voicemail every time. It made her angry that he wasn't responding. She told him it was his responsibility to be in Ezra's life but it didn't mean he could just go off and do whatever he wanted with them. Especially without even telling anyone where he was going or when he'd be back. Not even a place to meet.

She had to stop herself from calling Greg and inquiring about a search party. That hadn't been necessary yet. Molly was anxious as she got home, only to be surprised by a sight. Sherlock was sitting in the middle of the floor with Ezra, a train set all assembled and moving around in a circle. It was magnificent. Not specifically the train but the entire scene.

Sherlock was in the middle of telling Ezra about something dealing with this model of train when he heard the door shut. Ezra turned his attention to Molly as did the detective who stood up quickly, noticing the look of worry that had been on her face for a quick second before gathering the boy who had rushed up to her in her arms and asking him how his day was and "Did you have with Lock, today?" She had gotten to a habit of referring to the dark haired gentlemen that way after hearing him call Sherlock that several times. Sherlock answered to it, too.

Molly thought that was nice. He was always correcting people who were wrong. Molly didn't really know what he thought half the time but when it came to Ezra he seemed to slowly adapting to new ways of dealing with certain things. She looked over Ezra at him and saw there was this nervousness in his eyes that was barely there but it was obvious that he wasn't sure whether things were okay.

"Not okay?" He asked her once she had gotten out of her coat and moved over to the couch so that she could inspect the assembled machine they had in the middle of the room. She toed off her shoes and folded her legs on the couch so she wouldn't mess anything up. Molly gave Sherlock a look that basically told him they would talk later. He guided Ezra back over to the track and gave him the go ahead to show Molly what it could do. Molly focused on the little boy as he pressed a little switch near the train and watched as it made a chooing noise before starting circle around the path.

"Where'd you get a train?" She said peering over to Sherlock who had plopped down on the couch next to her, his legs crouched in front of him, his arms hanging around them.

"There's this place in Cardiff that has a wide variety of them. I thought it would see if he liked it before I did anything. He really wanted one."

"You went all the way to Cardiff?" Molly eyes widened. Sherlock was quiet as he focused on Molly who seemed to get baffled more by the second. "Yes," he replied with as slight pause. "It's not too far. We got it, came back after eating something and assembled it. It was a very productive evening." He told her as Ezra shifted the train into a full stop and then switched it back. He seemed to be enthralled by it. Sherlock had done well.

They were silent for a while just watching the mass of curls as Ezra moved around to look at the train go from all it's different angles. If Molly didn't know any better she would think that he was analyzing it. She looked over at Sherlock and thought about asking him whether he had taught him anything new that she should be concerned about. It turned out he was staring at her. She looked away with reddening cheeks and a smile on her face. Was he trying to piece something together himself?

He spoke a few seconds after that, "You should go shower. I can get him to bed, if you want? It's late." He continued on talking and if Molly didn't know him she would think he was anxious. As if Molly was someone he had to go through. Molly shook her head at that, he needed the practice. This would be good, wouldn't it?

Molly sat there for a moment before nodding at him. "Okay. His pajamas are in the third drawer from the bottom and he really enjoys reading the Basil stories. Take your pick of which one you want to read most. He loves every one of them." Molly gave him a quick smile before getting to her feet, ruffling Ezra's hair and telling him that she would just be down the hall in the bathroom freshening up before leaving the two of them alone.

That look of worry soon came back to her face when she was walking away. Sherlock saw it, but didn't think he should say anything yet. He could do this. It wouldn't be difficult. He repeated the mantra as he crouched down next to Ezra and let him have a few more rounds at the device before he asked him if he wanted to read a story. Ezra looked excited as he grabbed Sherlock by the hand, and began to run towards his room as fast as he could go which was quite so when he was in a hurry. Sherlock smiled as he trailed behind him.

He got the more appealing of the pajamas out of the drawer and got him into them before Ezra grabbed a book from the self and hopped onto the bed with his little bear in tow. He had been forgotten near the foot of the bed. He insisted that Sherlock read a book entitled "_Basil of Baker Street_" to him. Sherlock perched himself beside the younger boy, as he made room for him. There he stayed, reading a story that took place just in his backyard it seemed.

That was also where Molly Hooper found Sherlock Holmes sleeping with Ezra nearly forty five minutes after she got out of her steaming hot shower. The book lay on top of Sherlock's chest, his long legs hanging off the small bed. She took the book out of his hands carefully and placed it back on the shelf. She placed a throw that she always kept in the room on the nights when it was a bit chiller over the detective and pressed a kiss on both their foreheads. She had immediately gone from the room after placing the one on Sherlock's head. Her face reddening again and her heart beating like she had done something thrilling.

She missed the slight flutter of Sherlock's eyes during her departure and the smile that rested on his face for a few moments before he fell back to sleep.

x

Ezra started school soon. It was just for pre-schooling but it was still a big step for everyone really. He at such a young age gathered such a wide variety of loving people who cared for him and were eager to see him off in this new and exciting adventure. He called each of them something that he could remember without much trouble. Molly and Sherlock were the two that took him the first day and they would alternate for pick-ups if schedules permitted it on Sherlock's part. Molly always made time to get the young boy from school, even if she had to take an early lunch or get off a little early. Some days Sherlock insisted it be him that got him. Molly sometimes wondered what they did when she was stuck at work. Some days she would come home and find them working on something newly bought like another train or a puzzle and once a console game. Molly didn't think Sherlock really enjoy those types of luxuries but she found herself affronted at the two of them.

Ezra enjoyed spending time with his Lock. He told her several times, even when Sherlock couldn't be around for some time for a case. He would call and listen to Ezra ramble in his broken childlike language about something that had happened that day.

It wasn't always about the father and son. There was a day when Sherlock asked Molly to accompany him to a dinner that he had to go to for Mycroft. Ezra was spending the night with his playdate friend and classmate Michael and a few other boys. Molly always worried that she would have to go get him but when Sherlock went through all the reasons why she needed to go out with tonight and have a night out for herself. It wasn't supposed to be anything really. Just a dinner and then he would bring her home and she could continue worrying about the boy who wasn't hers but really had become hers and his.

She didn't expect that kiss to happen however. When Molly was unlocking the door to go back inside her flat. Her heels in his hand as she had to take them off in the cab. She wasn't used to wearing them that often anymore. She didn't go on dates. This most certainly hadn't been a date. He had just kissed her and said, "Thank you."

When she had asked him, "What for?" She didn't ask 'why', which should have been the first thing to leave her mouth after such an affectionate act on Sherlock Holmes' part. It had been more than that though. It was in his eyes as he stood there with a loose tie which was a requirement of the night, he needed to say something.

"When I was gone for the case in the Alps, I had talked to Ezra while he was at John's and he asked me something. I-I was never sure if he would ask anything like that or why he thought to ask but I had to be honest." He paused and while Molly was going to ask him what he asked him, he seemed to gather himself and continue on as if he was unaffected even though it was clear that he was. "He asked me if I was his dad."

_Lock, are you my daddy? _

Sherlock turned away from Molly's gaze which kept flickering through a range of emotions. Her eyes shining with unshed tears. She knew how troubling this had been for Sherlock. He never spoke it aloud but it had been clear that labels were things that were hard for him to process. It took him forever for him to realize that John was his friend and her as well. Molly reached for him without much thought and Sherlock relished in her embrace sniffling into her shoulder. "What did you say to him?" She said finally. Her voice almost detached if not for the slight pause as she stumbled through the question. Sherlock took in a deep breath, "_Yes._"

It was from that moment on that things started to slowly change. Molly knew that there were many things that Sherlock had a hard time saying. Though that kiss had clearly been a Segway into Sherlock admitting to the fact that he had concreted the bond between Ezra and himself, he was telling her that he was thankful to her for allowing him to do all of this. He told her the day after he had come back to her that she didn't have to do any of this. It wasn't in her description as his friend or his pathologist but he was glad now that she did. She gave him a chance to do have something. Something that she imagined he didn't have with his own father. She never asked about any of that.

Molly, Sherlock and Ezra spent ample time together doing various activities. Some in concern of his schooling and the others just to have fun. It was an odd thing to associate with Sherlock but Molly liked to see the way he had slowly embraced the idea of it. She knew that was all of Ezra's doing. They spent a year in this state of happiness.

Then it all fell away and the truth came to the surface. Or rather it was made known one afternoon.

Molly had rushed back into work after it happened without much of time to process any of it. She slid into her lab coat and focused on the work. She had one intern in today to help and that helped her not focus on any of what had happened. She just worked and worked and worked until Sherlock found her there and then she fell.

He was confused, that much had been clear when he approached her. She had avoided his glances and questions. Continued fiddling with the microscope as she analyzed a tissue sample that had she had taken from two bodies. A slow build of fury and sadness had been welling up though so as she turned to go grab the other set of paperwork that she needed to work on, he caught her by the waist causing her to look up at him. She looked down and away from him nearly as quickly. She focused on trying not to blubber like a baby. "Molly, what's wrong?"

She stepped back away from him and turned away, hiding her face in her hands and let out a sob. She immediately apologized for it. Sherlock turning away to give the intern a look that told him to get out of there now. He didn't want anyone to be around for Molly's breakdown. If that's what this was. He circled around her cautiously. "Molly." He called again, he didn't touch her. He knew he shouldn't. It was in the way she began to tremble and the tears cascaded down her face.

It all blew up quite quickly. "You knew." She started. "This entire time, you knew what was going to happen. You knew about the ploy that she was playing and you just thought it would end well. That everything wouldn't blow up in your face. Or mine really."

When Sherlock seemed to still and his expression blanked. Molly knew that though it was going to hurt like hell to say the rest of it, she would. She wanted to see the look on his face. "Irene Adler was at my flat when I came home with Ezra. She was just sitting there as if she just was popping by for a visit. She told me all about what happened or what didn't. She took him to his mother. No, Sherlock don't even try to explain it. I never wanted to know anything. I've been living a lie for nearly three years. He was never mine, don't you understand that? He was never yours, do you realize that? Nor was he hers. This woman, a friend of hers didn't want him and so she decided to just send him off to someone she figured would care for him. Then she decided that she wanted him and now, she has him. Do you know how that feels, to take care of someone for what feels like forever then suddenly they get taken away?

I suppose not. You didn't watch him grow the past couple of years. You came into his life right when things were beginning to start for him." She paused, turning away from Sherlock and taking a few shaking breathes. "You should have been there. He didn't want to leave. He screamed and cried and I just had to let him go. Do you have any clue how much that hurts?"

Molly begun to walk away from Sherlock when he finally moved. He didn't say anything at first. He just pulled her into his arms and even when she was hitting him and telling him to "let me go" and "I hate you" over and over again, he just held onto her tightly. A raw scene unfolding as he shook and broke, crying with Molly and telling her in a voice that she had only hear once when he was supposed to die. "_I do understand because Ezra was real. He made me love, for the first time and I promise you that this won't be the end. I will fix this. I don't know how, but I will bring him back to you and I. Please, Molly don't let go." _

That wasn't the end of it however. Two hours later when Molly and Sherlock were on the couch in her flat where they shared many conversations before. Molly broke another revelation to him. Something she had hidden for an entirely too long. It was something that she tried to hide because just like losing Ezra hurt, this made it fucking unbearable.

"_I can't have kids, that's why I was the perfect choice. I would love him and I wouldn't want to let go_." She cried for hours after that, Sherlock held her for all of it because it all started to make sense and he hated himself. He really did, he would fix this. He would have to. If not for himself for Molly. She need Ezra just as much as he did. If not, more.

_**I honestly am a sobbing mess right now. I'm sure there are edits to be made, I'll try to fix those tomorrow if I get a chance. I won't even say anything else. Thoughts? **_

_**Much love,**_

_**Day **_


	3. Chapter 3

**MINE & YOURS**

**3/3.**

Molly was exhausted. She had to take a double shift, she hadn't slept in two nights. Sherlock hadn't been around but he had sent her messages. Several of those. Every couple of hours she could feel the vibration in her pocket. She hadn't looked at them yet, but she knew it was him. He was the only one brave enough to talk to her.

She had seen the Watsons a few times for coffee but there wasn't really much of a reason why she should contact them. What was there truly to say to anyone? Oh, yes Ezra turned out to be a lie and I'm not okay about it.

The only one she could find herself wanting to be around is Sherlock and he wasn't here. He was somewhere, doing something. She didn't know what.

She dropped her bag on the ground, tossed her keys down onto the table as she slumped into her couch and closed her eyes. She fell down onto it, sighing as she turned away from the wall of photographs. She hadn't had the heart to take any of them down. She didn't want to, she knew that.

Her phone buzzed again on her side. She waited a few more moments before taking it from her pocket. She touched the home button to see she had thirteen messages that she hadn't yet read. All from Sherlock, no surprise there.

She went through tem silently. A small smile on her face at the last one.

_**I'll be back soon. Go eat and get some rest. You deserve it. – SH **_

She could hear what he was actually trying to say even if he wasn't in the same room. He would be sitting or standing somewhere looking at her with that look of disbelief in his eyes. "A double shift, Molly. Was it really necessary? You haven't been sleeping well, do you want to die this time?" Well, she might have exaggerated that a bit but he was thinking a part of it.

Her fingers flitted over the keys at a snail's pace as she replied to that one.

_**Too tired for food, I'll eat when I get up tomorrow. Good night. – Molly **_

She tossed her phone onto the table, leaving it there as she trudged past the bedroom that she had spent days upon days of crying in. She would either find herself in the small bed there or back in her room with Sherlock always there. He would curl up around her and start talking to her once he saw that she was awake or he'd just sit there rubbing his hand along her arm in what he saw as a soothing gesture. It was a sweet gesture on his part, she noted.

She had been without him for a good week and half now and she had been managing as well as she could be given what had happened. She had continued to go to work and make appearances when she was required to do so. Other than that she had stayed home, and remembered Ezra and all the sweet moments she had with him on her own and with Sherlock. The latter was beginning to sink in more so than the years she had spent raising the boy on her own.

A part of her knew that it was probably because of the growth that had started for the man in terms of who he had become. He had changed in the most wonderful way. He had grown hesitant about how to go about doing things in terms of Ezra. There was an entire year full of memories of the two treading into the life of father and son only for it to unravel in the most excruciating way. Molly hadn't really thought of what Sherlock had gone through upon her telling him about the boy no longer being there anymore. His withdrawal hadn't been as transparent as it was for her. It took her awhile to remember that Sherlock hid himself much more than most people.

It really shouldn't have surprised her. She had always seen through him. She hadn't wanted to see him at the time. She was furious at him because she knew how his mind worked. He had to have at least thought of the idea. Like he said on the morning after he had come back, "When there are power players involved you can't just be okay with it." That was the mistake that she had made. She had made a life out of a strange occurrence.

Sherlock had never lied to her. The morning after the big meltdown with her confession about the fact that she literally can't have children, they moved to her bedroom and lay there in pajamas. Molly in pajamas, he in one of his ratty t-shirts and a pair of sweats and he told her everything she could have ever asked of him. Except, she never asked. She had a feeling that he just knew he needed to tell her it all.

_The sound of Sherlock's heartbeat was a steady rhythm through the silence of the early morning as the two adults lay there. There was a stillness in the air that was hard to fix. The past twenty four hours being hellish in nature. The morning was a mere reminder of what had been lost and what was left of it. The two, a pathologist and detective who in essence without the titles were just merely lost at the moment. _

_Sherlock had been in and out of his mind palace. It used to be his go to place for the night's when he didn't feel like bothering with the way of the world or people. He didn't enjoy many people. They were all idiots most of the time. He had begun to like being around certain people however. Ezra Hooper being one of them. _

_He was a child. At one time he had thought he was his own. Very recent events told him otherwise. He had listened hours prior as Molly Hooper told him about the meeting between her and The Woman. There had been in a feeling in his gut that she was not to be trusted and it hurt him to see what damage that feeling had done now to a woman he cared for in more ways in one. He looked at her and found the twisted feeling in his heart that he long ago associated with sentiment. She was the key to it all. _

_She loved him long before he knew of it. He knew of her adoration towards him before he knew exactly what that was about. He connected her with several different emotions and ideas before. Never had the four letter word linked until his return to her. The way she took care of the little boy with the curly hair and the teddy bear he had with him whenever he was in the house. It became apparent to him that the only reason why she would do something like that was because she loved him. _

_He never told her that he knew this. Molly Hooper if anyone else, knew that he could see everything. He could deduce it all. He peered down at the woman with her head softly pressed against his chest. Her body lain to the side off of him and he had to fight the urge to not pull her fully on him and wrap his arms around her. His hand was busy brushing down hair, almost as if he was petting her. He stopped abruptly as he noticed his movements. _

_He opened his mouth then and began talking. _

"_I met her once when I was away but there was no such involvement as you have believed previously. She had information that I needed and in order to get it she required that we sit down and have dinner. She had it all written down in an envelope for me knowing exactly that I would leave the moment it was handed to me. She waited until we had dessert, I divulged for the first time in months. My body was reacting to sustenance and I craved it but beyond that there wasn't else. She told me as I got up to leave that she was disappointed that I hadn't wanted dinner. It's not something literal, an innuendo I believe the term is. I didn't wish to and left after letting her know just how annoyed she was making me. That's the extent of it." _

_Sherlock's eyes didn't leave from Molly even when she had peered up to look at him. Her gaze never wavering as she listened to him. "Did you know then about Ezra?" Molly questioned, her voice quiet. _

"_I had suspicions. I should have shared them with you, I realize but you seemed determined and happy in the life you had with him. I didn't wish to hurt you any more than I already had. When I came here during the night when I uncovered the secret of him I saw how upset you already were about the idea that I had been with her when I knew that I had not. You hadn't wish to know and I respected that. I respect you." He paused a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. _

"_I too got lost in the idea of this better life with Ezra. I began to feel attached to him even though there was also a part of me trying to not do so. It was easy to want to be around him and do things that I've never done before. I think it helped that I wasn't alone. There was you, and John, Mary along with Mrs. Hudson. There were all these people who were happy because of one little boy. I cared for him, I care for him still and seeing the disappointment in your eyes and pain that I have caused by not going with my instinct brought forth this unbearable feeling. I am sorry for doing this to you. I never wanted to harm you." Molly had begun to speak when Sherlock shook his head and said one last thing before she could get another word in. "What made it worse was your confession last night. I hadn't known about your troubles with fidelity. I regret being so reckless and making you feel as if I am as heartless as I've always been. That was never my intention, Molly." _

_As Molly listened to him she began to understand all of the things that he kept locked away. His own revelations gave her some room into how they could go on from this. She gave him a watery smile as she choked out a rebuttal. "I know." She pushed herself up so that they were at eye level and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, her arms coming to rest around his neck giving him a warm embrace. His arms slowly came around her waist. "We're going to be okay, alright?" She told him even if she hadn't completely believed it yet. _

"_Yes." He muttered. __**I'll make sure of it**__, he added silently. They laid there that morning and most of the day just immersed in each other's company. Their phones may have rung but there was a beauty in ignorance and the use of a power button to switch if off. _

Sherlock had spent ample time by her side when he had been there. A constant that she loathed to see but relished at the same time. He was the only one who could possibly imagine the pain that she had been through the past three moments because he had been with her for the year that he had included himself in the young boy's life as his father. It had originally been a question of how long he would stay there in this role. He was known for slipping in and out of them as easy as it was to blink. However, it didn't surprise Molly as much. Once the consulting detective had set his mind to something he stuck with it. Whatever he was doing now, wherever he was. She knew that it would have been something he was determined to do. She only could hope he would clue her in when he came back.

xx

There had been only so much that the tall detective could take when it came to emotions. He was known for his lack thereof any within himself. He long ago closed himself off from them and hoped it would stay that way as long as possible. However, the great change as John Watson had called it had opened his eyes to one kind of way of adapting into the idea of those kind of feelings being okay, and good. Ezra and Molly Hooper slipped through the cracks and created this new phenomenon for him.

The idea of family had been something he knew very little of. He had a brother who he saw every so often only for him to check on him and try to ease him into some new dealing (a case) that he required his assistance – almost begrudgingly each time. He also had a mother who he didn't go to see for rather personal reasons though they both knew of each other's existence and he was sure she had been told of his new status or at least what it had been for that year with Ezra. He had become the person he knew she hoped he would be. He had someone to go home to, and while it never was something he cared much about he admitted to enjoying the fact very much.

Most would say John Watson had served as that for him for the years before his fall but, that was something different. Coming home to Molly and Ezra had served a very different purpose. He had someone who loved him for the most part and he had someone who he could observe from a more parental standpoint. This had never been something he thought about and could file under: enjoyment. He enjoyed the chase and this was domestic and silly but he found himself wanting it more and more each day that he spent with the boy who had the funniest expressions. He asked him questions that he never would have answered for any small child never mind the adults who wouldn't dare ask him something as trifle as the interworking of a microscope and what it did. It was common knowledge. Ezra was young and able to figure things out at a slower pace than any of them. He was a child and he was his, for a time.

He wanted him back. He needed him back.

Not for just himself either. For Molly. For John and everyone who cared about him and his safety. He knew more about the interworks of a criminal and knew how dangerous it was to be living with one. He had not experienced it first-hand but he knew that it was not something he sought after for anyone let alone someone who had affected him so.

It was the type of paternal that most men were known to have. The feeling of wanting to protect their young and be sure that no harm is done to them whatsoever. It was as close as he was going to get to it in this lifetime, he was sure. This was why it spent two weeks of his time away from everyone apart from his brother who had contacted him the moment the news had reacted him about his nephew or his not so biologically connected nephew. There had been a slight change in the older man. On the few changes Mycroft had been around Ezra he had become a bit less professional and a lot closer to way he had been when he was a teenager and Sherlock and he were living under the same roof.

It was this advantage that came when tracking down the dominatrix who had been elusive for the first week. Only for there to be a snag during the two days that followed, and then finally he found her or at least place of residence. He let himself into her place after knocking out the guards that were stationed outside of it, locking the door again. He scoped out the place for anymore bobby traps that he should be wary of, or any other residents from inside but found none. He did look for leverage while he was at it just in case she didn't keep it on her person. The phone had been her life for a time but that didn't mean she didn't switch to more lax methods to keep her prized possessions. Such as a safe, people loved those.

He found a small one hidden behind her bed but found nothing in it but some jewels and a few documents that held little importance when it came to blackmailing not that it was something he particularly wanted to do, but all bets were off when it came to his mission. It was all coming to a head here in this place. So, he sat down in the chair that sat in the center of the living room and waited.

It had been during his fifth sweep through his mind palace that his ears picked up on the sound of the door being unlatched and so he opened his eyes back to the world before him. He didn't wait to make her notice him. He had no patience left in his body. He had been waiting for her for about five hours. "Where is he?"

"Mister Holmes, how lovely of you to drop by. Tell me now, which _he_ are you referring to?" She smiled at him as she walked directly over to him, a sway to her hips that he rolled his eyes at. She was testing his patience which was slowly disappearing second by second.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about. My son." He growled, shoving her arms away from his wrist as he stood tall and towering over her by a foot in her heels.

"If we were to be truthful here Sherlock, he isn't yours. We never went that far, remember? Or are you here to change that?" She giggled.

Sherlock slipped right past her, turning around to look at her with one of his most dangerous looks in his eyes. The one that was usually reserved for the people who he planned on nailing to the ground and murdering if it was necessary. His years in seclusion did not help matters much, he would not regret doing such a heinous act anymore. It was not beneath him and she of all people should know that. The last time he was in her presence she had been utterly shaken by how icy and disconnected he had been when it came to seeking out the demons who had been under the hand of Moriarty himself.

"I wouldn't dream of that, even if I was high. He's with his mother I presume. Where is she?"

"Now Sherlock. If you know that already then what are you doing here?"

"You have her under protection somewhere I can't find and I need to talk some sense into her. She can't just take him back like that. That's not how it works."

"He was never yours, Sherlock. Nor was he Doctor Hooper's and she knew that. Life isn't fair and both of you should know how cruel fate can be. I can't just give you this. You're right I am protecting her but for a good reason."

"Tell me and I'll be the judge of that." He muttered, huffing.

Irene looked at him, frowning. She did not like this at all. She hated him most of all. For making her go to this low. There were some truths that just hurt and this was one of them. "I'll tell you where but you have to wait until I tell you the entire story. This isn't just some fairy tale that you get to step into like some kind of prince. We both know you aren't one. So just don't do anything stupid."

Sherlock didn't say anything, he did listen.

Three days later he found himself in Luxembourg in a small cramped kitchenette with a woman who looked like she was on her last leg. Her name was Annette Diefenbaker, she had blonde hair that sat on her long face in bob. Her body was slimmer that it was supposed to be which gave him the grand impression that she had been skipping meals probably to feed Ezra who was at school and would be back shortly. She had gotten pregnant with Ezra after an incident with a client that led to her being shot up with heroine and a baby that she couldn't support with her lifestyle hence why she gave him up with the help of Miss Adler who had done her best to keep them away once she had admitted to wanting to have the boy back after four years of his absence.

Only now she couldn't kick the habit that had formed after the first hit and was only providing for Ezra and not herself. He didn't even have to tell her that it wasn't healthy. She had known the moment she opened the door and allowed him entrance. "You're Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?" Her accent was rather loose which told him that she was a native of these parts but hadn't been here too long. A few months tops. Coming here only after getting Ezra back.

The only thing he had said to her after nodding his head and telling her that he was indeed the man she had mentioned was, "How is he, here?"

"You want to take him away and you're asking me that. You have balls, Sherlock Holmes."

"It's just a question."

"One that will decide his fate."

"His fate his already been decided no matter what you say. He isn't going to want to stay here once he walks in that door and sees me here."

"How do you know that? It's been three months since he last saw you."

Sherlock bit back a laugh as he watched the way the woman's eyes welled up at the idea of it being true all the same. "Just wait and you'll see. He may be a child but he doesn't forget faces and after spending a year in that boy's company I know he will be happy to see me, and I to see him again."

"She said you were cold but I don't see it besides the fact that you want to take Ezra away."

"He's changed me in some ways." He admitted with a small smile on his face. He folded his hands in his lap as they fell into a comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. Sherlock just wanted this to be done so that he could go back to London and sleep in a bed with Molly.

Fifteen minutes passed slowly for the detective and then the door had opened with a little bit more effort. The sound of the lock clicking as it was shut and then a pad of feet coming into the kitchen was hear. Sherlock slowly turned his attention to the boy. His mouth went dry as his eyes welled at the sight of the tiny boy who had dirt on his shorts and a sack over his shoulder for his book bag. He felt his shoulders shake as he breathed in a shaking breath as Ezra rushed over to him exclaiming "Da. Lock!"

Sherlock chuckled a little as Ezra reached up to him wanting for him to pick him up. Sherlock was quick to oblige. The small arms circling around his neck as Ezra held onto him for dear life. "Where's Mol?" He asked excited as he hugged his Lock. That's what he called Molly.

"Waiting for you if you want to come home." Sherlock looked over at the woman who was staring at him in shock as Ezra hugged him gripped his neck tightly. He had a strong hold on the detective who just gulped down a sob at how elated he was at this tiny person in his arms. He slid his arms around the younger boy and pulled him closer to him.

He missed him entirely too much. His heart was beating so erratically as he relished this moment for a little while longer before turning his attention back to Annette. Her expression had toned down to something less shocked and more somber as she slowly begun to realize what had to happen. "You'll take care of him, you and that Doctor who had him all these years?"

"Of course." He choked out, looking down at the boy who he noticed had tiny tear tracks on his face. Was it that much of a burden for the small boy to bear as well? Being away from the two people who loved him so much. Sherlock believed so. His palms coming up to wipe the tears away. He didn't want to see him cry.

"Thank you for doing what I cannot."

"Ezra." Sherlock called to the curly haired boy. He looked dirty but healthy, Sherlock noticed under a much closer inspection. "Listen, if you have anything you want to take. Like your bear go get it. I'll be waiting for you when you get back and then we get on a plane and see Uncle Mycroft and Molly. I know how happy they will be to see you."

"Lock, are you happy to see me?" Ezra questioned as he pulled his hands away from Sherlock's neck and twiddled them in front of him.

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, of course."

Ezra's face lit up into a happy smile before he hugged him again, slinging off of Sherlock's lap not so carefully before running out of the room to a place down the hall which he only expected was his bedroom. Sherlock turned back to the woman and was genuine when he apologized for what was about to happen. "Perhaps if you clean yourself up, you can come see him." He left his card with her before meeting Ezra at the door with his teddy bear in his arms and another bag dragging behind him.

He crouched down to his level ruffled his hair. He took the bag from him as he caught his hand upon standing up and they headed out.

xx

Molly had had a long shift in the morgue mostly. A few tests had to be run but besides that she was elbow deep in the inner-workings of many corpses. By the time she got home all she wanted was a good shower and possible pizza for dinner with a bottle of red that she hadn't opened yet that sat in her cupboard on the top shelf. That was all really. She needed another break from work but she wouldn't be getting another day off for another three days and she was well aware of the Sherlock sounding voice in her head that was telling her that he didn't want to come home to find her laying passed out on a slab somewhere. Hopefully not dead for being so overworked.

She slipped off her jacket as she kicked her door closed and dropped her keys along with it onto the floor. She missed the obvious signs that there were others among her inside. The light in the room that was specifically for her kid that wasn't hers, the train that was out around the kitchen table and she missed the plate of food in the kitchen that was too far off from where she slouched on the couch.

A giggle came from the corner of the hallway that she just didn't hear. Sherlock smiled at his Molly as she sat there utterly drained from her day at the office. She had no idea what was about to happen and that was the greatest achievement of this entire ordeal. He wrapped an arm around Ezra to keep him there for a few more minutes before he carefully guided him out into the open.

"Molly." Sherlock called.

"Sherlock, oh you're back." She stated happily turning her head to look behind the couch only to stop completely. Her eyes closed tightly before opening again to double check that what she was seeing was real. "This isn't real." She mumbled as she stumbled to her feet and rushed around the couch. Sherlock let Ezra go and he rushed towards Molly without a second thought. Sherlock watched in amazement as Molly swept the boy in her arms and swung about in a manner that he could only connect with a mother being reunited with her child. Ezra was hers no matter what anyone said about it. Genetics didn't matter in this instant.

"I missed you so much." Molly wept as Ezra giggled at the auburn haired pathologist as she kissed his cheeks. She looked over at Sherlock with tears in her eyes as she balanced holding the curly haired boy in her arms. "C'mere you." She mumbled as she walked over to him, giggling at him as eyed her quietly. Molly yanked him down for a kiss which lasted for all of forty five seconds before she told him with a sniffle, "Thank you for bring him back to me." Sherlock smiled at both of them before pulling them both in his arms. It was an awkward embrace but it oddly felt right to have these two people wrapped in his arms. This was his family.

**So. This is the end my dears. Not entirely. I have plans to do ficlets with Ezra and the whole family of course. He's such a cutie, I can't just let it end there. So watch out for that yeah? It's been such an emotional ride with these three. Thank you so much for reading it everyone. Please give me any final thoughts in the review, yeah? I appreciate all your support. I love you for it.**

**Much love,**

**day**


End file.
